


Picking Up the Pieces

by Queer_Is_Here



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Angst, Gay, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, I had some feelings to get out, I said it, I started writing this soon after I came out to my dad, Jack is a good dad, M/M, My poor baby Simon, Simon just needs some love, Simon's friends are dicks, also, and Emily is a good mom, but not really, im sorry, so feelings, there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 21:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16313072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_Is_Here/pseuds/Queer_Is_Here
Summary: The box and walls that Simon had built and patched and layered since he was thirteen were blown to pieces with one click. He was suddenly fully exposed to the world, and not even his friends were there to shield him from the blast. Blue, his cute and grammatical Blue, was gone. And Simon couldn’t blame him, couldn’t be mad at him.OrSimon's world came crashing down around him, and he shattered with it. His family is there to pick up the pieces.





	Picking Up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is actually my first fic that I'm posting. I'm pretty proud of it. Feel free to leave some constructive criticism, but please don't be a dick. Thank you so much for reading!

Simon ached for the time when he was completely satisfied with himself and what he had. Before he turned thirteen—before Daniel Radcliffe and Brendon Urie—Simon was happy with what he had. Alice and Nora, his parents, and Leah and Nick were all he needed. That changed when he finally realized he was gay. He now had a secret to keep. He could no longer be carefree Simon who shared just about anything and everything with his sisters, parents, and two best friends. Hell, Leah and Nick didn’t shy away from Simon after the Bar Mitzvah or cookie cones incidents, so maybe they could take this in stride.

But every time those two words found their way to the tip of his tongue, whether it be at WaHo, Nick’s basement, or in his room after school, the deep clenching in his stomach and his heart leaping to his throat would silence him. They knew clumsy, awkward Simon; they didn’t know gay Simon. The rational part of his brain told him that he was being ridiculous, that he was turning this into a bigger deal than it actually was. Then, after he psyched himself up, nausea would rise in him and his jaw would clench tightly shut, keeping the words he desperately wanted to tell them locked away.

When Abby moved to town, Simon had already resigned himself to a lifetime of being in the closet. Okay, maybe not a lifetime, but at least until high school was over. Even after they became good friends, Simon never seriously considered coming out to her. Excuses would spring to the front of his mind every time the thought of telling her breezed through his mind—Leah would get jealous, or Nick would want to know first, or Simon didn’t even really know Abby all that well.

So, Simon kept a portion of himself locked away. At first, when he had stared forlornly at Daniel Radcliffe’s face, he thought that it wasn’t a big deal. He liked boys instead of girls. No biggie. It was two little words, just two syllables between them. Simon could keep those words to himself, right? But as he got older and girlfriends number one, two, and three came and went, the words seemed to build in his chest. As he awkwardly kissed two of those girlfriends, he couldn’t help but feel grossed out from the copious amounts of gooey lip gloss coating their lips. As he tried to pretend to like these girls that he physically couldn’t bring himself to like, he knew that they weren’t just two little words. They were one huge ass secret that shaped every careful action, every thought-out word that Simon had spoken since he was thirteen. And he stopped dating—pretending to be picky or wanting to focus on school or claiming that he just didn’t want to deal with his parents on the matter—just so he could continue to lock this huge ass secret deep inside his chest. And, God, did that secret want to come out (pun intended).

It screamed at the nape of his neck every time his dad made a gay joke when watching the bachelor. It echoed through his head every time Leah pointed out a cute girl that looked as if she was eyeing him. It sat at the tip of his tongue, waiting to come out, every time he sat down at the kitchen table after an afternoon of emailing Blue.

Blue was the one person who knew all that Simon was. Simon could talk to Blue in a way he absolutely could not talk to anyone else. It was easier to share all the little moments with him. Simon loved Leah, Nick, and Abby, and they knew almost everything about him, but there are things that they just can’t understand—like the deep knot of anxiety that wells in your stomach when you even think about coming out, and the hurt that hits your chest every time someone makes a gay joke around you. He couldn’t tell them that. He was Simon—awkward, introverted, unassuming Simon. 

Blue kept him sane. Whenever Simon became overwhelmed with keeping himself in the box he had built around himself, he logged into Gmail and told Blue. Only the specific details were left out. When Simon needed to laugh, Blue would make him laugh. When Simon needed to be reminded he was not alone, Blue would pop up on his screen. Blue shared his worries and dreams and hopes and fears with Simon, and Simon did the same with Blue. Simon thought that he was maybe a little bit in love with Blue. That’s a lie. Simon was completely, head-over-heels in love with whomever Blue was.

And then Martin Addison had to go and fuck everything up.

The box and walls that Simon had built and patched and layered since he was thirteen were blown to pieces with one click. He was suddenly fully exposed to the world, and not even his friends were there to shield him from the blast. Blue, his cute and grammatical Blue, was gone. And Simon couldn’t blame him, couldn’t be mad at him. No, he could never be mad at Blue. 

The ache that had been slowly building in his chest ever since he caught the phrase “anal buttsex” on the fucking Tumblr reached a violent tipping point as the word “permanently” flashed before his eyes. His Blue. Gone. Fuck, he hurt. His chest was ripping in two as he stared at the screen. He suddenly realized he was crying. He stared in wonder at the tears that had dripped onto his hand for a moment before a heaving sob built in his throat. The walls were so thin. His teeth sank into the meat of his palm as he attempted to stifle the wail that rose from his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear his muffled cries. All he felt was the massive crater in his chest where his heart was. 

Time stopped existing for a while. Simon, at one moment, was still staring at the Mailer Daemon message on his screen. The next, he was on the floor, chest heaving as he tried to draw in gasps of air. All he could hear was Aaron and Spencer and that stupid fucking song playing on repeat in his head. All he could see were flashes of his messages with Blue, the Mailer Daemon, his friends’ faces when they basically told him to fuck off, and his family’s faces whenever he passed them on his way out the door. He couldn’t breathe.

In the next moment, he was being cradled against someone’s chest as he sobbed hysterically. A hand was running gently through the mop of his hair, nails gently scraping at his scalp. Someone had placed his hand against the chest he was leaning on, and he could feel slow, steady breaths against his palm. Jack. His dad. He was sitting in his dad’s lap, crying into his neck as he tried to remember how to breathe. His mom was sitting next to them, carding through his hair. He suddenly became aware of Emily’s quiet murmuring.  
“Shhh, Si, you’re alright. We love you so much. Just breathe, honey. That’s it. You’re okay, baby. We’re here.”

Similar phrases of comfort slowly brought Simon’s breathing back to normal, if a little fast. His cries turned to soft hiccups and sniffles, but Jack kept his arms firmly around his boy. Emily’s hands moved to his back, rubbing gently circles. 

“Si, baby, are you back with us?” Emily’s voice was soft and sweet.

Simon gave a shuddering nod as he further buried his face into his dad’s neck. He didn’t know how long they sat there or when his dad picked him up off the floor under his desk and moved them all to Simon’s bed. Alice and Nora came in a short while later and surrounded Simon as he was sandwiched between his parents, his face still in his dad’s neck. Eventually, his tears stopped flowing and he just lay unmoving and quiet in what was essentially a nest of his family. Nora was lying across their legs, her head resting on Emily’s thigh. Alice was curled above their heads, her mess of hair tangling with Simon’s. Jack was cradling Simon in his arms from the front while Emily mirrored his position from the back, their arms tangling. Bieber had joined the mix at some point, and had somehow managed to wiggle in between Jack and Simon. The pain in Simon’s chest had soothed to a dull ache, and even that was almost unnoticeable. They fell asleep there, listening to each other’s breathing. 

In the morning, they would all sit down at the kitchen table as Jack made his world-famous waffles. In the morning, Simon would talk about Martin Addison and the blackmail. Emily would get teary, Jack would get angry, and Nora and Alice would be ready to fight anyone who hurt their Bub. Simon would get choked up as he talked about Leah, Abby, and Nick and how he had hurt them. And then he would start crying again as he talked about his Blue that was maybe no longer his. But that would all wait until the morning. In that moment, they just basked in the feeling of them all being okay, even just for a moment, and Simon finally felt truly loved since the moment he came out on Christmas. In that moment, they slept.


End file.
